Trickery
by sydneysages
Summary: Alicia Munroe is determined that Elle Gardner will relax - and enjoy - her fiftieth birthday. She also wants it to be a surprise celebration. /an Elle fanfic for my secret santee, Nat!


With a monumental thud, Doctor Alicia Munroe drops her last patient file of the day onto the deceptively empty workstation in the centre of the Holby City Emergency Department, startling her colleagues who hadn't heard her approach.

"Could you be any louder, Alicia?" Max Walker asks, rolling his eyes. He smiles as he speaks, and she decides to ignore his comment.

"I've been thinking," she starts proudly, though even she recognises that choosing to pause at this moment is perhaps a poor decision.

"Really?" Max retorts. "Call the press, Doc Munroe's got the answer to secure world peace."

"Don't be ridiculous," Alicia says, just as Ethan jumps to her defence with, "that's not necessary…"

" _Anyway_ ," Alicia presses on, shooting an almost perplexed glance in Ethan's direction, "I've been thinking about Doctor Gardner…She's fifty next month, and I think we should do something for her. You know, like it's been a tough year for her."

"Absolutely," Ethan replies immediately.

"Yeah, I agree," Robyn Miller calls from behind Ethan. "I think we can do better than wine and chocs, too. Maybe a day out or something?"

"Oh," Alicia says. It's almost as if the wind's been knocked out of her sails – whilst this is the result she wanted, she had expected a little more resistance, particularly from Ethan and Max. To say that things have been tense between her and Ethan since their breakup (if it could even be called that) would be an understatement.

"Oh?" Max repeats. "Was it just a false suggestion? Or do you actually want to do something for the nicest consultant in this place?"

Blushing slightly, Alicia shakes her head. "Don't try and make me sound like you, Max," she warns, before snorting slightly. Pulling her hair back from her face, she closes her eyes and thinks for a couple of seconds before adding, "What about the spa just outside of Holby? It's not ridiculously expensive, but it's a bit different and it'd be a nice chance for her to relax for a change."

"Sounds like a great idea," Robyn affirms. "I've got some discount codes for there as well, so if I send them to you, you can see which package you think is the best?"

"That'd be brill, thanks Robyn," Alicia replies, a beaming smile appearing on her lips. "And Ethan, can you, erm, ask Mrs Beauchamp if she'd be willing to contribute? She's most likely to give more money…"

"Sure thing," Ethan replies, smiling back tentatively. The gesture almost mollifies Alicia and her attitude towards him but, with a little effort, she rebuilds the mental barriers which close off the part of her mind which still loves Ethan Hardy. A year without men: she can prove to herself that she doesn't need to roll from one man to another.

"Right, I'll set up a whatsapp group to discuss further when I've got it sorted," Alicia continues brusquely, looking anywhere but in Ethan's direction. "And I'll work out a cracking way to get Elle to take the day off work…"

* * *

…

In the end, it isn't exactly a 'cracking' way that Alicia creates to persuade Elle Gardner to take a day of precious annual leave, but more of a crackpot combination of sheer luck, blatant lying and unashamed begging.

"So, El-Doctor Gardner, you see, I _really_ want to go to this conference but I need to go with a consultant, and I remembered you saying something about how you used to research emergency chest erm…stuff, so I thought you'd like to go with me? Or, well, I thought I'd ask if you wanted to go with me because it would be like the best thing ever…" Alicia rambles, unaware of exactly what she's saying in her determination to ensure that she doesn't even hint at the idea of a spa day.

Elle laughs, tightening her grip around her cup of coffee. Alicia suspects that the consultant is drinking decaff, due to the department's sneaking suspicion that Elle Gardner was the coffee replacement culprit the year before.

"Sounds great," Elle confirms. "But Connie's much more of a cardio specialist than I am, Alicia. Why don't you see if she'd be willing to go – or, even better, give you a session herself. She probably knows more than the lecturers at this event…"

Shit.

In all of her planning, in all of the research and brainstorming (well, half an hour on her laptop when her lasagne cooked last night), Alicia completely forgot about Connie Beauchamp's specialism.

"I, er, well, you see…no," Alicia blurts out, trying to form some form of coherent argument. "Yeah she's a cardio specialist, but she's not an _emergency_ cardio specialist. There's a difference, and I'm sure there are things that we could learn and pass on to Mrs Beauchamp. It'd be a brilliant learning experience for us all. We could do sessions on it when we come back and—"

"Alicia, Alicia," Elle interrupts, holding her left hand up to try and make Alicia stop talking. "You clearly want to go, so why not. If Mrs Beauchamp authorises it, then absolutely I'll accompany you."

"Brilliant!" Alicia replies, suddenly beaming though she does her best to keep the secret mission at the forefront of her mind. "There's just one _tiny_ thing…"

Elle suddenly looks suspicious, and in all honesty, Alicia can't blame her. "What?"

"We, er, would have to take it as a holiday day," Alicia almost mumbles. She keeps eye contact with Elle to gauge her response: so far, measured. "But it wouldn't cost anything. I've got a friend who organises, erm, conferences and he's getting us in for free."

It takes Elle almost a minute to respond. "You know what," she says slowly, "Let's do it. The boys are always telling me to take some days off for myself – though that's probably so that I'm not always around during the summer holidays." She laughs a little. "If you fill out all the paperwork for Mrs B, then that's a deal. What day is it?"

"Third of March," Alicia replies, her eyes still trained on Elle. If there would be a time that Elle figured out the secret agenda behind the 'conference', this would be it.

There's an almost thoughtful expression in her eyes before Elle nods and smiles. "That's fine, I look forward to it!"

* * *

…

It takes Alicia three days to persuade Connie Beauchamp to allow both Alicia and Elle to take a holiday day at the same time. It also costs her five hours of unpaid overtime, three hours to fill in a six page probably unnecessary form to justify the reasoning for the absence, and three conversations with Ethan to persuade him to help her get the result.

"Why exactly do you both need the day off?" Connie had questioned, her usually harsh tone more muted than normal. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Alicia had suspicions about the fragile appearance of the Clinical Lead, but she had pressed them away into nothingness. She didn't need to insult Connie, particularly when it was probably the result of heartbreak.

"Er, well," Alicia had stumbled, temporarily unsure if she should tell Connie the real reason. "It's Doctor Gardner's fiftieth and we wanted to treat her."

"Treat her how?" Connie had replied, a little of her usual ferocity returning to her tone.

"Er…by taking her to a spa?"

An almost wistful expression appeared on Connie's face at this point, and Alicia questioned suddenly whether any of Connie's team had ever treated her this way. And then immediately thought it was a bad idea to share the real reason.

"Very well," Connie had said, breaking eye contact with Alicia and looking back towards her screen. "Take the day off."

* * *

…

On her last day of being forty-nine, Elle Gardner deals with four vomiting teenagers, two terminal cancer patients, and a dementia sufferer. She gets vomited upon on three different occasions – and from different perpetrators – and gets called every name under the sun by a drunken middle-aged man who can't quite fathom the idea that non-white British doctors exist.

She wouldn't change any of it for a second.

Though it isn't exactly how she had planned to spend her birthday, she's more than a little glad that she's attending a conference tomorrow. It isn't exactly groundbreaking – or the epitome of a 'fun' birthday – but it'll be something to take her mind off of the existential questions of life which have been floating around her head over the past few weeks. Like if she's the right sort of person to be a doctor, if she even _wants_ to be a doctor. Has she parented her kids well enough, and has she achieved any of her life goals?

That's all far meatier and more intense questions than she needs to think about on a day out with Alicia Munroe, anyway.

Well, Elle mentally amends as she pulls her bag out of the locker in the staffroom, that isn't entirely fair. Alicia's far more intelligent than most of the team give her credit for – and she's even pretty philosophical on occasion. Should she ever feel the need to spill the beans about her self-questioning, Elle's sure that Alicia's the best person to spill it to on the team.

The issue is that she isn't sure that that's what she wants to do.

"Evening, Doctor G," Noel calls from the reception desk as she passes. "I hope—"

He's cut off swiftly by Max Walker, who is almost shouting as he says, "you have an _amazing_ day at the conference tomorrow."

Both Noel and Elle shoot Max an amused – and slightly perplexed – expression, though Elle breaks the silence by saying, "thank you, I'm sure we will. Have a great evening, guys."

In the hour after she leaves the ED, Elle goes to the supermarket and laments her purchases – "a ready meal for one _and_ a bottle of wine. Who have I become?" – before heading home and plonking herself in front of the television. An advert for Oxfam comes on, and she briefly questions if that could be something that she'd be interested in doing in the future, before shaking the thought from her mind. That's an issue for another day – a day after she turns fifty. For now, she can live in the moment: with her slightly burnt chicken chow mein, slightly tangy glass of chardonnay, and the beautiful sight of Tom Hardy on her television screen. Reece Witherspoon isn't too bad, either.

Tucked up in bed by ten thirty, Elle's last waking thought aged forty-nine is _why_ exactly did she agree to go to a conference on her birthday?

* * *

…

At a little past eight forty-five, Alicia Munroe pulls up in front of Elle's house.

"Surprisingly, I'm a fan of this rose bush," Elle comments with a touch of sarcasm in her voice as she gets into the passenger seat of Alicia's car. Her attire is as business-like as she gets, and it feels strange to be wearing a suit. Despite her position in the ED, the last time she wore anything other than scrubs to work was when Sam Strachan tried to prove the size of his ego…

Alicia has the good grace to look embarrassed – for a split second, anyway. "Sorry," she says immediately, before brightening up. She's too bright for this early in the morning _and_ for attending a conference.

Elle doesn't comment on it, however, and they're soon speeding away towards the A345. Which, Elle realises, is the opposite direction they should be heading in.

"Alicia, I think you've taken a wrong turn," Elle says kindly. At least misdirection is the only issue with Alicia's driving this time…

"Nah, I'm going the right way," Alicia replies distractedly.

"But…"

"No buts," Alicia says firmly – far more firmly than she's ever spoken to Elle before. "Sit back and relax, Doctor G. Enjoy the view."

It takes another fifteen minutes of driving for Alicia to pull over, a slightly perplexed expression on her face.

"So do you finally admit that we're lost?" Elle asks with a sigh. This feels far more like the time that she took her son out for driving lessons than it probably should.

Alicia's clearly a better actress than she thought, because the perplexed expression is gone, instead replaced with triumph.

"I tricked you!" Alicia replies, laughing.

Swiftly, she reaches into the backseat, returning with two tickets in her hand.

"Happy birthday, Elle," she says with a smile, proffering one of the tickets towards the older woman.

Suddenly suspicious, Elle reaches out gingerly for the piece of card, feeling unsure of herself. This isn't a situation she expected to be in – today, she was prepared for a nice day of listening to people talk about a pneumothorax. It certainly wasn't supposed to be a day with surprises.

Her breath almost hitches in her throat as she reads the ticket: a whole day spa experience with champagne and afternoon tea.

"Alicia, I don't know what to say," Elle murmurs, looking up towards her registrar. "You really didn't have to."

"I didn't," Alicia replies, shrugging. "Well, I mean I did a _bit_. But the entire team contributed to it. We all really appreciate you, and thought that you deserved a bit of you time on your birthday. Sort of you time, anyway…as I'm here. Clearly."

"Clearly," Elle affirms, and this time it takes everything she has not to suddenly start crying. Instead, she reaches out and places a hand on Alicia's arm, hoping that the action expresses the multitude of emotions probably visible on her face. "Thank you, Alicia. Truly. This means an awful lot."

* * *

…

As she sips a mimosa from her seat in one of the spa's many jacuzzis, Elle thinks about the strangeness of the day. Should an outsider look at the Emergency Department's staff, their ages and interest, well, on paper, she should be here with Connie Beauchamp. Instead, she's here with a girl half her age, who is more of a friend to her than most of the department combined.

Well, besides Jacob, she thinks quickly, before downing the rest of her mimosa. She forces herself to think of anyone _other_ than Jacob Masters.

"Did I tell you that I used to skateboard?" Elle says quickly, thinking of the first quirky fact that comes to the front of her mind. "Almost broke my kneecap this one time that I thought I could make it down a practically sheer wall."

Alicia snorts. "I can imagine you doing a lot of things, but skateboarding isn't one of them."

"Oh, believe it," Elle continues, losing herself briefly in the memory of herself at fifteen. "I had everything, was skating mad. My mum hated it, said that I was tall, so I'd be better at football or tennis. I ignored her, obviously."

"When did you stop skateboarding?" Alicia presses, her tone intrigued.

Shifting slightly underneath the bubbles, Elle tries to remember the exact details of the last day she skated. "When I realised that she was right," she admits. "Or, well, not _right_. But I played football, and liked that more so I became football mad. It was a very strange U-turn."

"You changed just like that?"

"Oh yes, I was a girl of many whims," Elle replies, setting her now-empty mimosa glass on the side of the jacuzzi. "My parents weren't impressed, as I made this lifechanging decision a week before Christmas, when they'd just bought me the ridiculously expensive skating gear I'd been begging for all year."

Alicia snorts again. "Yeah, I understand that one well," she replies. "I hated purple and loved pink when I was eight – everything had to be pink. Then in like early December, I decided that it was the other way round. Dad was fine to swap everything in my room to purple, but Mum was livid."

"Strange things, childhood interests," Elle muses. Before she can continue thinking, the waiter replaces her mimosa. "Thank you very much."

"Your masseuse will be ready whenever you are," he comments before departing.

"You know, Alicia, this is exactly what I needed," Elle presses on, turning her attention back to her spa-mate. "Thank you. I don't know how you knew what I needed, but you did."

"No problem," she replies, taking a sip of her own – alcohol free – mimosa. "Sorry about the whole, um, cloak-and-dagger situation to get you here. And if you did really want to go to the conference…sorry…"

Elle laughs. "Don't be silly, of course it would have been fun, but this is a hundred times better," she affirms. "And it does make a lot more sense, something that Noel said yesterday…"

"What did he say?" Alicia asks, suddenly suspicious.

"Nothing!" Elle replies. "He managed to say 'I hope' and then Max jumped in and said something about the conference."

"Oh." Alicia sounds relieved. "Noel's never able to keep a secret, is he? And he always cracks the day before, so we always made sure that someone was with him yesterday when you were around, just to make sure that he didn't, you know, crack…"

"He did a marvellous job," Elle laughs. "The conference, though…was it something you were interested in, or was it entirely a rouse?"

Alicia's face betrays the thinking going on in her mind; Elle observes her carefully, noting with pride the consideration her younger counterpart is giving to the question. Many a registrar would be keen to jump in and give the answer they think the consultant wants to hear – not the answer that they actually want to give.

"I was interested," Alicia says slowly. "I saw it, and I was interested in it, and then I saw the date and thought that it was perfect," she admits. "But yeah, I'd really like to specialise in something like acute cardio cases in the ED. Or something similar, I guess."

"When we get back to Holby, I'll have a word with Connie and see if we can actually get you onto one of these courses," Elle promises. "And she might even mentor you herself, give you really in-depth specialist training on the topic."

"That'd…that'd be amazing!" Alicia almost squeals. "But she doesn't need to mentor me…I was going to save this for another day…but…um…I was wondering if you'd be my, like, official mentor?"

"I'd be delighted to," Elle replies immediately, a flurry of warmth unrelated to the third mimosa rushing through her. "Thank you, Alicia, that means a lot."

An almost comically alarmed expression springs onto the registrar's face. "Shit! Um, erm, _whoops_ ," she says, rapidly correcting herself. "This is your day, and we shouldn't be talking about me or work or anything. It's _your_ birthday. We'll talk about you."

Elle can't find it within her to resist, so the rest of the relaxation-filled day is consumed with stories of her friendship with Jacob (and the fact that, yes, he did wear a tutu to their twenty-first birthday celebrations), her wild life as a teenager, and the six months she spent travelling Asia and Australasia.

It's a little after nine by the time she gets home and, after a second near miss with the rose bush, Elle enters her house having enjoyed her birthday for the first time in years.

* * *

Happy secret santa, Nat! I hope you enjoy!


End file.
